


Stuck

by RobinPlaysTrumpet15



Series: I've Worked Hard For This, What Am I Going To Do? [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-10-26 05:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinPlaysTrumpet15/pseuds/RobinPlaysTrumpet15
Summary: Yuri and Otabek have to deal with the physical, emotional, and mental fallout from Nikolai's death.





	1. Nothingness

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: RATING SUBJECT TO CHANGE!
> 
> I hope you like this. I'm not sure how long this story will be. I hope you like it!

As the days passed, Otabek became increasingly more worried about Yuri. The blonde wouldn't talk, he wouldn't sleep, and he wouldn't eat. Or, not without a lot of begging and prompting on Otabek’s part at least. He would have to ask a question three different times before Yuri would even acknowledge him, and he’d taken to just forcing small snacks into Yuri’s hands every couple of hours. Sleep was a battle every night. Sometimes it just turned into Otabek sitting up with his friend on the couch all night, some old television show playing in the background on Nikolai’s ancient TV set.

The funeral came and went and still Yuri reacted to nothing. After his initial breakdown, nothing changed. He was silent, he didn't smile, he wouldn't make eye contact with anyone. Otabek tried, he did. At this point, he was just trying to ensure Yuri didn't run himself into the ground and crash. But in all honesty, he knew that Yuri was already in a down. He had crashed the second he found out about his grandfather’s cancer with only brief moments of light where someone was lucky enough to distract him for a while.

Otabek wished that camping trip could have lasted forever. For a day or two, Yuri seemed better. He seemed to forget about everything and let himself enjoy the moment.

What was worse was Otabek had noticed that the time Yuri spent in the bathroom was increasing, and he never went without a shirt. Before, Yuri would spend nights in his short shorts and nothing else. Otabek never complained. Yuri was attractive, after all.

But now, his outfits consisted of sweatpants or jeans, long sleeve shirts or t-shirts and a jacket. And sure, none of that would have been different if they left the house at all. But that was just the thing: they weren't leaving the house. Of the two of them, only Otabek had left a couple times and not for very long either. And Yuri always seemed to be worse when he got back, even if he was only gone for fifteen minutes to grab take out.

And Yuri… Yuri just didn't know what to do. When he was younger, his grandfather’s house always seemed to be so lively and colorful. But now? Now it was lifeless, stagnant. All the color was gone. It was muted and gray and… Yuri related to it.

Everything was numb. Yuri didn't feel anything. He hadn't felt anything since Otabek called him into the living room nearly two weeks ago. It had hurt, and that was the last thing he remembered feeling before his chest just… burst. Something in there ruptured and suddenly everything stopped. The world ceased to spin and time stood still.

Yuri was trapped. Inside his mind, he could feel himself crumbling, he could hear himself screaming out, but on the outside, he felt nothing. He was a rock, an unfeeling, barely functioning rock.

Tonight was one of the nights Otabek had convinced Yuri to sleep in his bed. As Otabek went to shower, Yuri changed. The blonde pulled on a pair of his skating leggings and a turtleneck sweater. The house wasn’t cold. In fact, Yuri was warm under the clothes, but the coverage they provided could not be given up. After all, what would Otabek say if he saw him?

He would be disappointed. He’d be disgusted. Yuri is supposed to be stronger than this! Yuri Plisetsky had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier, right? Shouldn't that mean he’s strong enough to overcome this?

When Otabek came back, Yuri was already in bed. The man pulled on a t-shirt to sleep in and a pair of athletic shorts before looking over at the bed. It was a twin, technically not large enough for two people but they had been managing it for years now, so whatever. The problem here was that Yuri slept on the side furthest from the wall.

“Yura…” Otabek sighed.

Yuri just stared up at him, unblinking. The dark made it hard to focus on the man’s face, but oh well.

Otabek sighed again before carefully climbing over the blonde to settle on the other side where was room (kind of). He lay on his back, watching the dark ceiling above them. After a moment, Yuri turned onto his other side, latching onto Otabek’s arm, cheek resting on his shoulder.

Otabek all but gasped. Yuri hadn't initiated contact with the older in days.

“Yura?”

Yuri didn't answer. Not that Otabek had really expected him to, but it was worth a shot. He contemplated turning to wrap an arm around Yuri’s waist, but that would have dislodged the blonde and if he was actually going to sleep like this, Otabek was not going to mess that up.

So Otabek curled his other arm up and under his head and tried to sleep.

The next morning was… interesting to say the least. By the time Otabek woke, Yuri was still asleep, which in and of itself was unusual. The next thing the man noticed was that, while the blonde had been fully clothed the night before, he wasn't now.

At some point during the night, Yuri must have gotten up and pulled off his sweater and leggings, leaving him in only a pair of boxer briefs. That was fine. The blonde had probably been overheating anyway.

They had shifted during the night. Otabek was in the middle of the small mattress, and Yuri was all but on top of him. His head was on Otabek’s chest, a leg curled up onto him, a knee pressing right in Otabek’s… morning problem.

“Shit…” Otabek hissed into the dimly lit room. He took a deep breath, tossing his head back against the pillow, eyes roaming over the cracked white ceiling above them. A moment later a harsh rock song blared out from the living room.

He had to get up, but Yuri was finally sleeping.

‘Shit, what now?’

Otabek supposed there was nothing for it and he would just have to get up. The phone continued ringing as he turned into his side. It was a weak attempt to get Yuri to curl back into his little ball, sure, but… Otabek didn't know what he was trying to do.

“Beka… turn it off…” Yuri groaned. He did actually move off of Otabek, pushing his face into the green pillow beneath him.

Otabek chuckled, pushing up from the mattress. “I’m working on it, love.”

Yuri grumbled back at him.

As Otabek climbed off the bed and crossed the room, the song shut off. He figured that it was a call and it had gone to voicemail. Out in the living room, he picked up the black cell and checked it, finding a missed call from Yuuri Katsuki.

‘I’ll call him back later…’ Otabek thought to himself, tossing the phone onto the couch and heading back to Yuri’s room. He found Yuri curled into his chest, laying on his stomach. The comforter was kicked down to his thighs, providing a full view of his back, the skin pale and… irritated?

The skin on Yuri’s side and hips was red and seemed splotchy. Otabek’s eyebrows knitted together as he cocked his head a little to the side, moving closer to see better.

Yuri would kill him if he knew Otabek had noticed. Of course, he had his suspicions that Yuri had begun cutting again, but he hadn't seen any real evidence until now.

Suddenly Yuri turned over, looking at Otabek and watching him for a moment. Otabek carefully schooled his features back to a stoic blank look, giving no hint that he had seen. But out of his peripheral vision, he could see the angry red lines traced over pink and white scars. He found them on the front of Yuri’s thighs too.

Carefully, Yuri lifted his arms up into the air, grabbing at Otabek like a child would to be picked up. Otabek huffed a laugh before moving closer and settling on the bed, knees on either side of Yuri’s hips. He could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile appear at the corner of the blonde’s mouth, and the thought alone was enough to warm his chest. The older leaned down, pressed a kiss to Yuri’s cheek.

“I love you.” Otabek smiled, nuzzling the flush that was spreading across Yuri’s face. He pulled away to look into the younger man’s pale green eyes.

Something flashed in green irises, something almost… playful. It melted Otabek to see it after weeks of blank nothingness.

Suddenly Yuri’s hips were lifting, pressing up into the curve of Otabek’s ass. The black haired man’s eyes widened as he registered a hardness there and remembering suddenly his own. Otabek felt his cheeks heat fast before he all but threw himself off Yuri.

“Uh-umm… I’m gonna… go make breakfast…” Otabek was off the bed in record time, rushing out of the room.

“Otabek…” he heard as he went.

The tone there was colored all kinds of confused and hurt. It made Otabek want to cry.


	2. Little Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have chapter two! I hope you like it!

It didn't actually occur to Yuri that he had lost his shirt and leggings until after Otabek had left the room. It didn't occur to him that his scars and cuts were fresh and on display for the whole world if there had been anyone to look. It didn't occur to him to hide.

Because…

Because why would he have to hide anything from Beka? Beka was his… his… friend? His best friend? His more-than-friends friend?

But he didn't hide from Otabek. Well, he was now, but he didn't like it.

Because Otabek would be mad. Otabek would take one look at him and he would yell and he would take him out of skating and supervise him all the time and…

But that didn't make sense.

Otabek would never do that. He would never do that kind of thing to Yuri. He wouldn't look at Yuri with those pitying eyes that everyone else gave him. He wouldn't act like Yuri couldn't take care of himself because he knew he could. He wouldn't keep him under lock and key like Grandpa d-

Yuri blanked.

Grandpa was dead. He died two weeks ago. His funeral was a week and a half ago. Yuri had spoken…

Had he spoken at the funeral? When was the last time he had spoken at all?

Yuri shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the plain sight of his bedroom ceiling. He realized belatedly he wasn't hard anymore.

Why had he been again? Had he and Otabek been doing something? He remembered… he remembered being woken up by a rock song coming from somewhere… and he remembered Beka getting up to turn it off. What came after that?

Otabek came back, he knew that much. But then what?

Yuri reached up and pulled his hair momentarily before sitting up and taking a look around the room. There was his sweater kicked onto the floor and his leggings tangled at the foot of the bed. He couldn't fathom how they had gotten off in the first place, because what he most definitely did not remember was getting up to take them off.

The room was still dim but not dark, morning light pushing past his blinds to lighten everything. Yuri scrubbed at his eyes for a second before pushing the blanket all the way off and standing to pull his clothes back on. Now that he realized how visible everything was, he was self conscious again. Maybe Otabek hadn't noticed? He would have said something if he had noticed, right?

Or maybe not…

Yuri couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not.

Covered again, Yuri left the room, heading out to the kit her where the sounds of Otabek moving around were coming from. His blonde hair fell over half his face again, hiding him.

“Scrambled eggs, Yura?” Otabek asked, looking up from the counter. Three white eggs sat there, uncracked.

Yuri shook his head no. Otabek hesitated.

He turned and came closer to the younger. “Yura?”

The blonde wouldn't make eye contact with his friend.

“Please. Talk to me.”

Yuri shook his head again. Otabek had closed in, in his personal space. It wasn't something that made Yuri uncomfortable, but he moved away anyhow.

“Otabek, we’ve got to…” Yuri started before thinking better of it. He closed his mouth, no intention of finishing the sentence and regretting having begun it at all. Walking past Otabek, Yuri opened the cupboard and took out a glass before going to fill it with orange juice from the fridge.

“We’ve got to what?” Otabek encouraged.

Yuri just shook his head, letting the fridge close and sipping from his glass. “Never mind.”

As Yuri left the kitchen, he thought he saw the man deflate a little, a sad look growing in his dark eyes. Oh well. This was for the best. He loved having Otabek around, but Yuri was just dragging him down anyway. It would be better. The less Otabek got involved, the less likely he was to be hurt later.

The thought was enough to make Yuri’s eyes sting, tears welling up.

He hated feeling like this. Even before when he had first told Otabek about his depression and self harm, he had never felt that. He had never wanted to push Otabek away.

But now… Would he be better off without Yuri?

A loud smash by his feet made Yuri jump. His glass had fallen from his hand, juice spilling everywhere and shards of glass littering the floor.

“Yuri?!” Otabek came racing out of the kitchen. “Oh, god, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Yuri just stated at everything in shock. When had he let go of the glass? He didn't seem to be cut anywhere, just sticky, but…

“What just-” The blonde stepped away carefully, cringing at the feeling of juice on his feet and toes.

Otabek sighed. “Go clean up. I take care of this, yeah?”

Yuri nodded, stepping carefully around the mess towards the bathroom door.

Otabek looked at the shattered glass and splatter of juice before turning away to go back to the kitchen. He grabbed a dish towel, going to carefully scoop up the glass shards. It was a difficult project, many pieces teeny tiny, but he got it mostly done, unable to see any left over pieces glinting against the light.

Yuri was still sitting on the side of the tub when he finished, feet sitting against the wet bottom. The door had been left open. He had pulled up his shirt, inspecting his sides, pressing at scabs.

‘Now may be as good a time as any…’ Otabek thought. He stepped into the room.

“Yura…”

Yuri didn't turn.

“I… I know you saw…” Yuri sighed. He let his sweater fall back into place.

Otabek didn't say anything, stepping closer and sitting on the side of the tub next to the blonde. Yuri glanced at him quickly, looking away again just as fast.

“Yura, talk to me. Please.” Otabek whispered, setting his hand down on top of Yuri’s.

Yuri shook his head, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You can't keep doing this!” he insisted.

“I know…”

“Please, you can't keep this in-”

“I know that!”

Yuri’s tone was harder than he meant for it to be. It was biting, sharp, and he immediately shrunk back from it. Otabek could see the quick recoil, eyes going wide and shoulders hunching and curling into himself.

Otabek paused for a moment before lifting his arms in invitation.

“Come here…”

Yuri didn't hesitate before falling into Otabek’s embrace. His fingers curled into Otabek’s shirt, clenching hard and holding tightly.

“I’m sorry…” Yuri sighed, hints of self loathing evident in his voice.

“I know…” Otabek acknowledged gently. He stroked at Yuri’s long hair, half pulled back and falling out of the black tie from sleep. “Listen, it’ll be alright. We can get through this together, yeah?”

Yuri nodded, cheek pressed into the older’s shoulder.

“It’ll be okay…”

It wasn't a lot. Just a little bit. But it was something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought! :)


	3. Working On It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's not really getting better, but Otabek supposes they're working on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Guys guys guys guys guys! Look at what I accomplished today! So, anyway, this hasn't really been read through, so if there are typos, I will go through it later, but I need to post this now. I'm worried about what will happen if I wait. So, I hope you guys like this.

Things were not significantly better. Yuri still hid. He was still hurting.

Otabek knew that he had cut again since the morning with the broken glass, but other things were happening that he was getting really worried about. Scratches and rough red patches appeared on Yuri’s arms. The older would catch the blonde yanking on his hair out of the corner of his eye.

He didn't know what to do. He wasn't qualified for this.

What was worse, Yuri hadn't done anything to go through his grandfather’s things. He didn't touch them, he didn't look at them, he didn't even acknowledge the items had belonged to anyone at all.

It was toxic. The environment was making it all that much worse, and Yuri seemed reluctant to do anything about it.

Otabek had tried to bring up the idea of cleaning out the house, but Yuri never acknowledged him. It was like he hadn't spoken at all. The whole situation was starting to bother Otabek.

He laid awake one morning, one arm thrown up over the pillow, Yuri snuggled into his side. Something about the ceiling seemed different.

‘Is that crack new?’

Suddenly a buzzing started up on the nightstand. Otabek lifted his head to look over at it. The screen of his phone was lit up, Victor’s picture smiling up at the room.

Carefully, he reached over and picked up the phone, accepting the call and bringing it to his ear.

“Hey,” he whispered, glancing down at the blonde tucked under his arm. “What’s up?”

“Good morning! I wanted to remind you both that practice starts today.” Victor greeted.

‘Oh, shit…’ Otabek thought.

“Can we skip just for today?” Otabek asked hesitantly.

“Why? Something wrong?” Victor asked, tone sobering.

“Yuri actually slept last night and-”

“He’s not sleeping?”

“Not much. But anyway, we still need to clean out the house and… I dunno. He’s not getting better…”

The line was silent for a moment. “Would you like us to come over and help?”

Otabek thought for a moment. Would more people help or make it harder? Will Yuri be angry if Otabek invites Victor and Yuuri over without running it by him first? But Victor and Yuuri were there to help from the beginning. They taught him to paint himself. Victor told him to hold ice cubes. Yuuri just accepted him and let Yuri grow as he needed.

“Yeah. Maybe with you guys here, we can get something done.” Otabek sighed. Yuri was still asleep, soft breaths puffing against the older’s chest.

“Okay, great! We’ll be over around ten. Okay?” Victor’s signature brand of excitement was back.

Otabek spoke without thinking. “He hasn't left the house since the funeral.”

“Wha-”

“He’s cutting and scratching himself. And he pulls his hair. He won't eat meals, just snacks every few hours… He’s not talking…” Everything came pouring out without his permission. “It’s near impossible to get him to sleep in his bed. Most nights we stay up on the couch…”

“Otabek… Otabek calm down. It’s alright. We’ll come over, do some cleaning. And maybe we’ll go out afterwards, okay?”

Otabek nodded, agreeing out loud only a second after, forgetting that the man couldn't see him. “Okay, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Okay. I’ll text you when we’re on the way. See you later.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Otabek ended the call, dropping the phone onto the mattress next to his pillow.

They’d have to get up soon…

He lay still, all too aware of the growing lightness of the bedroom. It wasn't too late in the morning yet, still marginally early, but they both had to be ready anyway. Otabek had to somehow convince Yuri to eat at least something and then they both needed to shower. Honestly, Otabek probably needed to do laundry here soon because he wasn't sure when the last time he did laundry was and he was fairly certain he had one pair of clean underwear at the bottom of his suitcase.

After a few minutes, Yuri stirred, drawing in a deep breath and stretching against the length of Otabek’s side.

“Morning…” Otabek greeted, looking down at the top of Yuri’s blonde head.

Yuri turned his face up to look at him. A rare smile graced his features, fondness and love looking back at him from pale green eyes. Otabek’s heart melted and he smiled back. He squeezed his arm around Yuri’s shoulders and leaned to kiss his nose. Yuri scrunched his nose up in response. Otabek laughed at him.

“Alright. We have plans for the day, so we gotta get up.” Otabek said, relief flooding through his chest.

Yuri groaned a little but complied, pushing up and sitting back on his heels. He stretched before climbing off the bed and heading over to his closet and grabbing clothes.

‘Okay. Shower first.’ Otabek thought.

He got up and dug into his suitcase tucked against the foot of the bed. He found a pair of jeans that were clean enough, the one clean pair of underwear he was glad he had been right about, and a team Kazakhstan t-shirt. Good enough…

Yuri went into the shower first and Otabek went in when he was done. Thankfully, he didn't deal with the hot water running out. Before Nikolai died, he had replaced the old water heater with a brand new electric one. It was probably the nicest part of the house.

“What do you want for breakfast, Yura?” Otabek called, toweling off his hair as he walked out to the kitchen.

Surprisingly, there were signs of breakfast having already been made. A box of cereal sat out on the counter, and Otabek knew it hadn't been there yesterday. Turning around and leaving again, he found Yuri sitting cross legged at the table, lifting a spoonful of cereal and milk to his mouth.

“Oh…” he mumbled.

Half an hour later, they were both ready for the day, Yuri sprawled out on the couch on his phone. Otabek shifted his weight from foot to foot at the entrance of the living room. He had to say something…

“Otabek…” Yuri said, eyes still on his screen. “Let’s clean the house…”

Otabek couldn't speak for a moment. Had Yuri really just…? “Uhh… cleaning day is Saturday…”

“No. I mean actually clean it out.” Yuri sat up, staring at Otabek blankly. “Put Grandpa’s stuff away in storage and move.”

The older nearly choked on his breath. He coughed momentarily before composing himself. “Really? You’re sure?”

Yuri nodded. “It's about time anyway… Katsudon has been talking about me moving closer, and it wouldn't be an hour drive to the rink anymore…”

Otabek was silent, waiting for Yuri’s finishing reason. His tone left something unsaid. But in Otabek’s experience, it was better to let the silence hang instead of filling it.

“And… and I want you to… stay…”

“Here?”

“With me…”

He was shocked. Yuri wanted Otabek to move in with him? But… but they haven't even talked about what they are to each other! What about Otabek’s family in Kazakhstan? What about his sisters? Otabek had finally moved back to Almaty for a reason and-

And he had been here… in Russia… with Yuri… for close to two months now. Or was it three? He had been living out of a suitcase by Yuri’s side and… it felt so natural. It was comforting to wake up in the morning with the blonde no more than three inches away. He was relieved to be the one looking after Yuri when the blonde could have so easily pushed him away and struggled on his own.

Every time he looked at Yuri, Otabek wanted to kiss him. He wanted to slap him sometimes too, but not often. He wanted to hold on to him and never let go. He wanted to whisper sweet nothings in his ears that meant everything.

He wanted Yuri to be happy.

“Otabek?” Yuri was shifting awkwardly now, hands twisting, his hair falling into his face.

“Would that make you happy?” Otabek asked simply.

“I want you to be happy. I don't want you to stay if you don't want to.”

“Oh Yura,” Otabek sighed, moving to join Yuri on the couch. The blonde fell into his embrace easily, no walls thrown up, no fighting, no complaints. “I’m happy as long as I’m with you.”

Neither said anything for a moment as Yuri wrapped his arms around the older man.

“I’ll think about it, alright? I just moved back to Almaty two years ago. I’m not sure what kind of a fit my family will throw if I leave again.” Otabek chuckled. He could imagine the tantrum from his youngest sister and the silent treatment from his brother. “But I am not against the idea…”

Yuri brightened. He squeezed hard and held onto Otabek for a moment before launching off the couch.

“Okay. Let’s clean the house!”

Otabek sat still momentarily, just watching after the blonde. “Do you-”

“Text Katsudon and his husband!” Yuri called over his shoulder. “Tell them to come over!”

What? What was even happening?

“When do you want them to get here?”

“Asap!”

Otabek stared again before reaching into his pocket for his phone, pulling up his texts to Victor.

‘...What?’

*

It was two o’clock, and Otabek still couldn't figure out which switch was flipped. Literally and figuratively.

The lights in the house had gone out in the middle of cleaning.

They had started with the basement, deciding that if they got the upstairs clean and then got it messy again, there was no point. So far, three fourths of the contents of the unfinished basement was settled in stacks around the kitchen, dining room, and living room.

It was daunting. Otabek hadn’t really realized just how much junk Nicolai had strategically fit into this tiny house. So far, Yuri had exclaimed in disbelief and confusion at least six times. And that was because that was the number of boxes Nicolai had dedicated to Christmas decorations.

Christmas.

A holiday that the Plisetsky’s didn't even celebrate, and never had.

There were two whole boxes of ornaments to put on a Christmas tree, complete with regular white lights, multicolored lights, and white lights on a green cord. Some of the ornaments were old and obviously hand-made while others were store bought and still some seemed to be made by children, covered in glitter and glue and not very neat.

There were two others boxes that contained what seemed to be precious clay decorations that formed a little Jerusalem, including a barn with a little Mary, Joseph, and a baby Jesus. Everything could be arranged and changed, little statues of people placed around randomly. Most of them had handwritten tags on the bottoms of their stands that had their names and what their role had been in the town. Several of them had been scribbled in with green and blue pen by someone probably very young.

The remaining boxes contained miscellaneous decorations like garland, a hand-made little elf, what was probably the twelve days of Christmas portrayed by bears, and holiday tablecloths and towels.

Yuri never had a clue the boxes had been down there. Otabek wondered how he had gone so many years living with his grandfather and never found these boxes in the basement.

What Otabek really found strange was that all the writing on the decorations and tags was in English. True, English was spoken commonly throughout the world, but one would imagine something personal like this would have been in Russian.

Most everything else was fairly normal. There were clothes and some old, well-worn camping gear, VHS’s of Disney movies and random other titles Otabek didn't recognize. There were some boxes of old, broken toys that Yuri said he had played with when he was little, as well as board games with missing pieces and incomplete puzzles.

It didn't help that almost nothing was together. Aside from the boxes of Christmas decorations, very little was actually placed in specific locations. An old gas stove sat next to a broken fridge, but the box on top of the stove contained spiderweb covered baby toys. Camping items were strewn over the entire basement, at least two partial boxes already unearthed and brought upstairs.

The whole thing was beginning to weigh on Otabek, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what Yuri was going through with the whole ordeal.

Yuuri and Victor were a god send, really. Victor and Otabek worked on finding boxes and taking them upstairs while Yuri and Yuuri worked to sort through all of them.

There were four areas of sorting: Sell, Trash, Storage, Keep. (The Christmas stuff hadn’t been sorted yet.) Even with this system,everything was still unorganized and confusing because more stuff kept coming up and things that had been put in the trash were taken out again and put somewhere else.

Yuri hadn’t noticed that he was trying to put almost everything in the trash until Yuuri called him out on it.

“Trash.”

“Yurio… are you sure you want to throw this out?” Yuuri asked, staring into the box the younger blonde had just shoved into his arms. It was filled with awards and medals and little trophies that Yuri had won when he was younger. A previous one had been full of little presents Yuri had obviously made for his grandfather when he was a little kid.

Yuri paused, turning back to the black haired man and picking something up out of the box. It was a mini little trophy that read “1st Place Yuri Plisetsky”. It, like everything else was covered in a thick layer of dust, grimy to the touch. But the box was organized, obviously cared about and had been kept on a high shelf where water couldn't degrade the cardboard.

“Listen, I know you just want this to be over, but you don't have to throw away memories because they hurt.” Yuuri said, attempting to catch the blonde’s pale green gaze. “Why don't we take a break?”

Suddenly the entire house went dark. There was a crash and a yell from below them in the basement the next second.

A beat of silence passed.

“What happened?” Yuri called.

“Dunno.” came Otabek’s reply. “Where’s the fuse box?”

Yuri thought for a moment. Did he know where that was? Grandpa had always been the one to turn the lights back on if they went out. What did the fuse box even look like?

“Yura?” Otabek called.

“Uhh… I’ll come help you find it.” Yuri placed the trophy back in the box still in Yuuri’s arms before heading towards the stairs, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight.

“You don't know where the fuse box is?” Otabek asked, coming towards Yuri in the near pitch black darkness.

“Well, I never needed to!” the blonde snapped back. “Grandpa always did this stuff.”

Otabek, for his part, didn't say anything else about it.

Eventually, they found the gray box on the wall in a corner of the closet and Otabek looked inside, flipping switches. Nothing happened. Yuuri was still upstairs, watching for whether or not the lights came back on.

After a few minutes of investigation, they found that there was no power in the house at all.

“Was the power bill paid?” Yuuri asked as the three climbed the stairs from the basement.

Yuri paused again. Shit, that couldn't be it, could it?

“I’ll be back.” Yuri said, running out the backdoor and crossing the small bit of yard to the neighbors’.

The blonde knocked on the front door and waited a moment, turning and checking that at least one car was sitting on the street in front of the house.

A second later, Liv was answering the door.

“Hey, Yuri. What’s up?” the brunette asked with a smile. The girl was two years younger than Yuri and had always been willing to play with him as kids.

“Do you have power?” Yuri asked.

Liv shook her head. “No, we lost it a few minutes ago.”

The clenching feeling around Yuri’s lungs lessened.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“So?” Victor asked as he reentered the house.

“Neighbors are out of power too.” Yuri replied, dropping tiredly onto the couch.

Otabek wondered silently if whatever high that hit Yuri was wearing off.

“You know what? Now would be an excellent time for a break. Who wants to go out for a while?” Victor suggested, a wide smile plastered on his face. Otabek couldn't quite read him very well, but there was a hint of apprehension and hopefulness that even he could pick up on.

Yuri groaned. “Uhhgg, fine.”

Otabek smiled to himself. Maybe Yuri wasn't really getting better, and maybe was just a fluke and tomorrow would be back to the way it was yesterday, but you know?

He supposed they were working on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really hope you guys liked this chapter. Leave some feedback about what you thought. I love hearing from you guys. Thanks for reading, and I will try to update this story more often.


	4. He Loves Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek takes a trip home to talk to his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually kind of short, but I think it's good. I really hope you guys like it!

“Otabek!!”

A small body launched itself at Otabek, wrapping thin arms around the skater’s waist and clutching on tightly. The man smiled, hunching down a little to squeeze his brother’s shoulders.

“Hey, Ruslan. How’s my little mini me?” Otabek teased as the black haired 11 year old lifted his face to smile at his brother. One of his front teeth was missing.

“I lost a tooth!”

“Wow,” Otabek said, leaning in and inspecting the hole. “How’d you do that?”

“It was the one that wouldn't come out, so the dentist pulled it out!” Ruslan exclaimed, jumping back from Otabek and doing a little dance. “Mama almost fainted!”

‘I bet she did,’ Otabek thought to himself. His mother could be quite squeamish, especially when it came to blood, bones, and teeth.

“Where is Mama?” Otabek asked. “I need to talk to her and Papa.”

“She’s out with Allie and Arrie, but she said she’d be back soon to see you. Wanna play a videogame with me?”

Otabek smiled and shouldered his backpack again, following Ruslan into the house. He wheeled his suitcase behind him and dropped it just inside the doorway with his pack before heading up the stairs with Ruslan Into the preteen’s bedroom.

The two played games for nearly two hours before Ruslan got bored and asked Otabek a million and one questions about Russia.

“Is Yuri your boyfriend?” the brown eyed boy asked suddenly.

Otabek nearly choked. None of his siblings, not even the older girls, had ever asked that. The last person he expected it from was his youngest sibling and only brother.

“Why do you ask?” Otabek asked, averting his eyes and trying to sound nonchalant. It didn't work.

“Because you spend a lot of time with him, and you talk about him the way Ana talks about Liam.” Ruslan explained simply.

“But Yuri’s a boy…” Otabek said quietly.

“So?”

Otabek blanked. What was happening? Sure, his family wasn't homophobic, but it wasn't like his father would be happy that his oldest son was gay.

Gay? Bi? Otabek wasn't even sure. He had dated girls before, and he had liked it, but he really liked Yuri too. And it wasn't like he found other guys unattractive…

“So? Is he?” Ruslan asked again.

“Well… no, he’s not.”

“Do you want him to be?”

“What if I told you I do?” Otabek asked.

Ruslan smiled wide. “I’d be happy for you. He wants you to be his boyfriend too.”

Otabek didn't say anything for a moment. He had suddenly been hit by how accepting children, even older ones, can be when they aren't taught such bigoted beliefs all the time.

But something has occurred to Otabek. Now would be a good time to bring up the idea of moving to Russia with Yuri. Maybe he should talk to his parents about this first, even if he was twenty years old, but Ruslan would be a good start. Maybe break the news to his siblings a little easier while it was just him and them.

“So, Ruslan…”

“So, Beka?”

“You know how Yuri’s grandpa died a few weeks ago?” Otabek asked carefully.

“Yeah. Is he okay?” The smile had dropped from Ruslan’s face, hiding his missing tooth and the one dimple in his right cheek.

“Well, see, Yuri’s having a really hard time right now. He’s sad a lot and it’s hard for him to do stuff like take care of himself.” Otabek wasn't sure Ruslan knew about depression or exactly what it was, so it made it hard to explain what was going on.

“Oh…”

“And I have been helping him. But living out of a suitcase is getting a little difficult-”

“Are you going to move away again?”

Ruslan’s brown eyes drifted lazily around the carpet, hands dropped limply in his lap.

“Nothing’s for sure, Russ,”

“But you want to.” It wasn't a question at all. Just the hard truth that Ruslan was absolutely sure of.

“Well, yes, but I care about you guys and I don't want to leave again so soon-”

Ruslan’s head shot up, eyes locking on Otabek’s near identical pair. “You love him.”

Otabek didn't say anything for a split second before, “I love you guys too.”

But Ruslan was shaking his head. “But he needs you. And you love him. Besides, you can still call, right? We’ll Skype and text and everything?”

“Of course we will, Ruslan.”

“Then you have to move.”

*

The talk with his parents hadn't gone nearly as well as the one with his brother.

Otabek had to tell them in plain, simple terms that Yuri’s depression and anxiety were pretty bad, and that since Nikolai had died, Yuri had only gotten worse. He told them about Yuri cutting and everything else.

Well, almost everything else. He didn't say anything about his feelings, but his mother guessed and his father shut down the conversation.

That night, the conversation had been brought up again because Ruslan, the little snitch that he was sometimes, blurted out how Otabek was moving to Russia. The whole family had stilled. All five of his sisters were home, including Ana’s fiance Liam, and Syl’s husband Marcus.

“You’re what?” Aliya all but demanded.

Otabek shot a quick glare at his brother. “Thanks for that,” he hissed. Ruslan shrunk back into his chair.

“Beka, is that true?” Syl asked gently.

Otabek sighed. “Probably, yes. Yuri needs someone there with him and since his grandfather just died-”

“Why can’t Yuri move in with someone? Like Nikiforov or Katsuki, they get along fine. Why do you have to move to another country?” Otabek’s father demanded.

‘Here we go again…’

“Because I know him better, Papa-”

“No, it’s because you want to play the hero!”

“No, I don't. Yuri doesn't need a hero!”

“You sure seem to think he does-”

“Papa!” Ana exclaimed. “Otabek is twenty years old. He’s lived in different countries before. Why is this any different?”

“Because I love him.” Otabek answered for his father.

No one said anything. The dining room was completely silent. The Altin family sat there for what felt like a lifetime before Otabek pushed out of his chair.

“This was a waste of time.” he breathed angrily, leaving the room and grabbing his keys. The man pulled the front door open and slammed it behind him, heading towards his motorcycle.

He needed to drive.

*

A few days and some semi harsh debating later, Otabek was back in Nikolai’s house with Yuri, his mind totally made up. As soon as they found a place to go (because they were getting out of Nikolai’s house), Otabek would take Yuri to Almaty, pack up his stuff, and ship it to Russia.

Otabek unlocked the back door of the old house, opened it and stepped inside.

“Yura?” he called.

“In here,” a small voice called from the living room.

When Otabek was standing in the archway of the room, watching Yuri curled up on the couch, reading a book, Otabek was certain about a couple of things. 1. He definitely loved Yuri, and 2. He really wanted to kiss him.

“How was your trip?” You asked casually, not even looking up from his book.

Otabek reached down and grabbed Yuri, hauling him to his feet.

“I love you.”

Otabek kissed the blonde hard.

It wasn't anything special, just a hard press of dry lips for a few seconds. But it felt right, just as it had the times before when they had kissed. Then Otabek pulled back, giving the blonde a chance to back out.

“I love you too…”

Yuri smiled, and for once, it reached his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought of this chapter. If you have ideas for future parts of this fic, feel free to leave a comment, or go on my profile page and find my email and shoot me a message. Either way, thanks for reading!!


	5. New Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek doesn't know where Yuri is, or how he got here, but Yuri can feel how good it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys look! I did a thing! This chapter was hard to write, mostly because not too much happens. I honestly think this is the turning point of the story. I don't want to give away spoilers, but I'm thinking we're going to start seeing Yuri improve and get better. Anyway, this chapter is looooong overdue. Thanks for hanging in there, guys! I hope you like this :)
> 
> P.S. Sorry this chapter is so short D:

“Beka!”

Otabek groaned and rolled, reaching across the little space he didn’t take up on the mattress. He opened his eyes when he was met by cold sheets.

“Yuri?” the man croaked out in a sleep garbled voice, lifting his head and glancing around the bedroom. The smaller teen was nowhere to be seen. Though the door was open as opposed to last night when Otabek had shut it behind him.

“Otabek!”

The kitchen, then.

Otabek groaned again as he sat up, throwing off the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He reached up and rubbed at his hair that he could just tell was sticking up in all directions as he stood and made his way out of the room towards the tiny kitchen.

There was Yuri, all bright and smiley and obviously already showered, but not quite dressed for the day, still in an oversized shirt that nearly looked like a dress and loose sleep pants. His hair was still wet, pulled back in a tight ponytail.

“Yura?”

“You,” Yura said, giving the taller man a look. “Are going to make us late.”

“Late? Late for what?” Otabek couldn’t honestly think of anything they were supposed to be doing today, let alone at… 7:30 in the morning. He grimaced a little as he glanced over the clock on the microwave.

“Practice?” Yuri’s tone implied that it was obvious, though Otabek wasn’t entirely sure how it was. Yuri hadn’t been to practice in weeks now, and Otabek had just figured he wouldn’t be back for a little while.

Maybe he was wrong.

“It’s been too long since I’ve been. I still need to practice if I’m going to beat Yuuri this year.” Yuri turned back to the stove where he was cooking scrambled eggs.

“Oh…” Otabek said, trying hard not to seem startled. “Okay. I’ll just… go get dressed then.”

“You do that, but hurry up! I’ll be done in a minute and then we can eat and get going, yeah?” Yuri said, not looking at his boyfriend.

Otabek couldn’t make himself move for a moment. Was this really his Yuri?

“Okay.”

*

“Yuri! Otabek!”

Yuri smiled when he entered the rink with Otabek at his side. It had been awhile since he’d seen Yuuri, and he had honestly missed the black haired man.

“Hi,” the blonde greeted, allowing the man to hug him as he set his bag down on the end of a bench. When Yuuri released him, he sat and pulled his skates from his bag, kicking his sneakers off and pulling on the black figure skates.

“You haven’t been here in forever,” Victor acknowledged good naturedly. Still, Otabek swore to punch him if Yuri got upset by the comment.

Of course, in accordance with today’s odd behavior, the blonde just smiled and agreed, saying it had been too long and he had to keep practicing. It was nice to see a smile on the pale face, lighting up features that Otabek too often saw a frown on. The scary part was that he couldn’t honestly tell whether the smiles were real or not.

What would they do if they were fake?

*

Practice went surprisingly well. It took Yuri all of three minutes to warm himself up and work up to jumps and spins, nearly flying all over the place as he typically did. Not that anyone had expected him to take much time to get back to it, but still.

They took a break around lunch where someone started playing music from their phone. Most of them sat on the benches, drinking from their water bottles or checking their phones. Yuri found himself dancing along to “Please Don’t Stop The Music” by Rihanna, gliding over the ice smoothly, not really doing much.

His eyes landed on Otabek, watching him from the wall. A playful smirk grew on his face, a glint in his eyes as he beckoned for the older to join him. Otabek smirked back, rolling his eyes, but pushing away from the wall.

They danced around each other, Yuri beginning to sing along to the song.

_I wanna take you away  
Let’s escape into the music, DJ let it play_

Otabek hadn’t DJ’d in a long time, at least since he came to stay with Yuri in Russia. Somewhere in him, he felt bad about that. Otabek liked DJing, and Yuri liked watching him do it too.

Maybe he could do it here…

_Do you know what you started?_  
_I just came here to party_  
_But now we’re rocking on the dance floor, actin’ naughty_  
_Your hands around my waist_  
_Just let the music play_  
_We’re hand in hand, chest to chest, and now we’re face to face_

Yuri hadn’t ever really liked this song before, but whatever they were doing, skating around each other, simple lifts here and there, it was uplifting. It was different, out of the routine.

It was fun.

Then the song was ending and something else was starting. He didn’t really even hear the new song, just looking into Otabek’s eyes.

It felt good to skate. It felt good to skate with Otabek.

And that was a new thing.

Yuri didn’t know quite where he was at anymore, but this was a new place.

A good, new place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you found any grammar mistakes, let me know so I can fix them. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought and if you have any ideas of where this story is going. Feel free to email me at the email listed on my profile page, or send me an ask over on tumblr. Thanks guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! :D


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